It Has To Be
by 0109silver
Summary: Set right after Golden Lily. Sydney's broken heart. Adrian's shattered heart. All these emotions bottled up in Sydney, she needs someone to talk to. And she asks one simple question: Is it all worth it? One-shot.


**This is set right after Golden Lily, right after Adrian kissed Sydney (yea!) and she runs away (darn . . .) Reviews are welcome, anything is accepted. Enjoy.**

**((((0))))**

I honestly couldn't get him out of my head. His eyes, his smile, his . . . lips. Speeding away as fast as I can, I hoped it would help ease the pain. The pain of a broken heart. It only shattered it more as the distance between us grew. God, why he did he have to do that? We had a good thing going, well good enough for an Alchemist and a Moroi. We—I thought—it was as close as we can to being normal, mutual relationship. But no, he had to develop feelings for me, and he had to push it. He had to kiss me.

Though I guess to blame isn't his entire fault, somewhat is mine. I should have noticed to changes in his domineer, his attitude. I shouldn't have lead him on, tempting him to do what he just did. And I know for certain I shouldn't have kissed him back. However, that kiss, that one amazing, wonderful, magical kiss, it made me feel wanted, admired . . . loved. It was the best thing that has happened to me in a while, maybe in all my life—

_No_, my Alchemist side screamed, _it was not. It's immoral, wrong, and gross. It shouldn't have happened. You're just glad you were alone, and no one saw or there would have been major consequences._

Ignoring the speed limits and traffic violations I just made, the determination to get as far away as I can from that Moroi is what drove me. At least, tried. I have lost count on how many times my mind traced back to his haunting eyes staring back at me from the doorframe; or how my fingers trekked back to my lips, reminding me of the sweetness that took place there.

I know I broke his already mending heart. I know I ripped his heart out and left him there to bleed. I just know . . .

Tears threaten to break through my mask, the mask that should be indestructible. Then I felt it. Within my chest a pain slashed threw my strained heart. It felt like nothing before, nothing simply close to what I have experienced before. It's excruciating.

Jerking over to the side of the road, I slammed Latte into park. In time too, because once I did that I burst into tears. All the pain, angst, and regret flooded into one universal stream, my tears. _I'm so sorry_, I wanted to say. But I know nothing will come close to a plain apology. I screamed, cursed, and yelled— anything you can imagine I did. Heck, I even physically struck to stirring wheel a few times, trying to let out all of my feelings into one setting. Tears streamed down my cheeks forming an everlasting canal of despair. Resting my head on the stirring wheel, I sobbed silently. Letting the salty water fall onto my pants, soaking them clean through to the skin.

Funny, people have always praised me about being so contempt, so contained in every situation, good or bad. Now? Now, these are the side effects to being so restrained, so orderly. Truth is, the feelings just build up inside you, never expressing themselves and when you finally get the chance to convey these emotions, you burst.

In my heart, I know its breaking. On my cheek, it reminds me who I am and what my loyalties are—

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

The unmistakable sound of an incoming call jolted me up. Looking at the caller I.D. it only read out-of-state-caller. In a flash, I composed myself and answered.

"H-he-hello?" So much for composure.

"Sydney?" An unmistakable, and certainly needed voice came back. Mom.

"Mom? How did you get my number?" Alchemists constantly change numbers so we won't be tracked. So in surprise I just changed it after the whole Warriors of the Light incident. Alchemists can't have liabilities. After thinking that, I cringed.

"Oh, we have our ways," she answered. By 'we' she means the Alchemists, and yes we have our ways.

"Oh . . . okay." That was the only answer I could give at that moment.

"Sydney is everything alright, you sound . . . you sound like you've been crying," states my mom. Nothing can get by her and her motherly ways.

"No . . . everything's find. It's that . . . I'm having a down day." Trying to keep a straight voice is harder than I thought, but still my mom saw through my façade.

"Yet you're crying. That's just not a 'down day'." Concern fills her voice as she speaks.

"No, I'm fine. It's just . . . can I ask you something?" I know I'm all over the place, yet this is my mother she's purpose to know every angle of you and not judge. That and she's not my father.

"Anything."

Letting out a staggered breath I ask, "Is it worth it?"

There is a pause but then, "I'm sorry, Sydney, but I'm not following . . ."

I run my fingers threw my estranged hair in frustration. "Is it worth it? Is it worth the sacrifice, the lost? Dreams, careers . . . love? _Is this job worth it_?"

There is a longer pause this time, like she's trying to think of a better answer than just-off-the-top-of-your-head kind. Finally she replies, "Yes . . . it's worth it."

A single tear runs down my face. I quickly wipe it away. Honestly, half of me wanted it to be the opposite. I wanted my mother to say "No, it's not worth it. You choose your own destiny, your own path. You can be free from this golden lily." Somehow, in the back of my mind, that sounds like Adrian just then, telling me again that I'm not a slave to this belief system, these principles. And the other half—the long drilled Alchemist side—just said "I told you so".

It took me a while to realize I had a concerned mother on the phone. Breathing out I listened back into the conversation.

"Does this have anything to do with a boy?" My mother demanded.

I quickly answer, "No! No it doesn't." _Smooth Sydney . . ._

I rest my head in my free hand, still trying to wipe away the tears.

"Oh, okay then," reluctantly she ended the conversation right then and there. Turning my phone off so there won't be any more distractions; I straightened up trying (and failing) at pulling myself together. I glanced at my reflection gazing at the golden blemish upon my left cheek. It reminded me of who I am and who I should be. An Alchemist.

Resting my head on the head rest I closed my eyes and counted my breaking heartbeats.

"It has to be worth it," I muttered to myself, trusting that it will give me strength. It didn't.

"It has to be."

**((((0))))**

**I know, I know. Not the ending you were hoping for, but this is Sydney we're talking about. Plus, it builds suspense to the up and coming book **_**Indigo Spell**_** coming out in February. Hope you liked it. Review!**

**~Silver **


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